


Time's a Gentle Stream

by HollyMartins



Series: You and I — Arthur and Charlotte stories [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Lives, Domestic, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Insecurity, Love, Post-Canon, Post-Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018), Protective Arthur Morgan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:21:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23804524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyMartins/pseuds/HollyMartins
Summary: Arthur Morgan and Charlotte Balfour were two very different lost souls who just happened to find one another when they both needed it the most. Now they finally have their second chance.___A series of one-shots following Arthur and Charlotte as they face the new century together.
Relationships: Charlotte Balfour/Arthur Morgan
Series: You and I — Arthur and Charlotte stories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715026
Comments: 18
Kudos: 49





	1. March, 1900

**Author's Note:**

> While writing LIKE STRANGERS (YOU AND I), I came up with so many ideas for Arthur and Charlotte in the future so I've decided to create a new story to house them all. I plan on writing one-shots following the couple—some connected, some not—and uploading them here. I certainly hope it all makes sense.
> 
> Also, you do not need to read LIKE STRANGERS (YOU AND I) necessarily to understand but I do suggest it and would greatly appreciate it. This and future chapters will take place following the events of that story.
> 
> This particular chapter features Charlotte and Arthur FINALLY getting down to business in the bedroom and has a scene inspired by a work of art by mrskrazy.tumblr.com so thank you so much to her! 
> 
> Nota beta-read so any mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading and please don't forget to comment below! Insecure writers like myself need the nourishment. Thank you again!

Arthur blinked awake and stretched. He grasped the blanket and attempted to pull it off when an arm reached over and squeezed him tightly. Charlotte rested her head on his chest and yawned.

“Stay,” she mumbled sleepily.

Arthur smiled and shook his head.

“We’ve got work to do,” he reminded her.

“It’s Sunday, isn’t it?”

“Mmhmm,” Arthur replied.

“Day of rest,” Charlotte muttered. “Stay.”

Arthur huffed a quiet laugh.

“I dunno if you haven’t realized it, but I ain’t much for religion,” he pointed out.

“Well, neither am I but I do enjoy resting.” Charlotte nuzzled against Arthur’s chest and her bare foot brushed his leg. “Come on, stay.”

Arthur swallowed as he felt arousal bloom inside him. He immediately, and rather uncouthly, threw the blanket back and all but pushed Charlotte’s arm off of him. He swung his legs over and reached for his rancher pants, stepping into them quickly, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

“Rain’s coming tonight,” he muttered. “Wanna get those herbs in before that.”

Without so much as a backwards look, he hurried out of the bedroom, leaving Charlotte blinking after him.

* * *

Charlotte wasn’t a fool. She may be naive in a great many matters but not when it came to men. And Arthur was a man just like any other.

She glanced over her shoulder, where Arthur was carefully planting sage and oregano in the garden he had created behind the cabin. She turned back to her work of weeding and shook her head. She had suspected Arthur would prefer to take things slow but she wasn’t quite sure if it was because of some misplaced sense of honor, or pride, or if he simply felt nothing for her.

No, that couldn’t be it. Since they began sharing a bed, all that Arthur had permitted were rather chaste kisses throughout the day. There had been one moment, of course, a week or two ago, when he had frightened her after not returning within the promised two days when he went hunting with Hamish. She had made herself frantic with worry, imagining all sorts of devastating reasons for his apparent disappearance—from bear attack to capture by Pinkertons to stumbling off a cliff face—and when he finally did arrive on the third morning, tired-looking but pleased with his bounty, she had all but thrown herself into his arms, berating him a mile a minute with tears in her eyes.

She had only quieted when he grasped her shoulders gently, and smiled down at her reassuringly. Before she could think, she reached up and kissed him firmly and quite suddenly they were both wrapped in one another’s arms, bodies pressed together and when she felt his arousal against her, she had moaned softly against his lips. Apparently that had been the wrong thing to do, because he had jumped back as if burnt and turned away to busy himself with butchering the elk and several rabbits he had caught. They never spoke of it again.

Charlotte felt her face grow hot as she recalled that kiss and wiped at her forehead nervously.

“Are you alright?” Arthur asked. He was suddenly beside her. “You’re not too tired, are you?”

“No, no,” she said quickly and tried to smile. “I’m fine. And you?”

“Fine,” he replied, wiping the dirt off his hands onto his pants. “Gonna feed Sage, alright?”

“Alright,” she said and watched him amble off to the stable. She sighed and turned back to her weeding.

* * *

Arthur stared down at the blank pages of his journal, a frown on his face. Not for the first time, he was at a loss for words. He tapped his pencil against the paper and sighed, resting his head in his hands. At the sound of the bedroom door opening, he glanced up.

Charlotte stood in the doorway, wrapped in a shawl and her hair down. Arthur swallowed.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked. “The fire’s died down.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” he replied as he realized he was, in fact, chilled.

“Why don’t you come to bed?” she offered.

“In a minute,” he sighed, turning back to his journal.

“You’ll ruin your eyes trying to write in the dark.”

“Got a candle.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Charlotte shake her head and turn back into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Guilt rose in his throat and he attempted to swallow it down. He closed his journal and blew out the candle, walking slowly and carefully towards the bedroom door. He slipped in and in the darkness, saw Charlotte curled up on her side under the blankets.

He undressed quickly and crawled into bed, shivering against the coolness of the pillow. Charlotte immediately turned and wrapped her arm around him. She must’ve felt him stiffen because she immediately removed her arm.

“Arthur,” she whispered in the dark, “if you don’t want me to touch you, just tell me.”

He sighed and closed his eyes, once again wishing he had a better way with words.

“It’s not that,” he admitted quietly. “It’s just…”

“It’s alright if you don’t feel that way about me,” she continued and Arthur could hear the sadness in her voice.

“It ain’t that either.”

“...Is there someone else then?”

“What? No, I…” Arthur sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “Charlotte, you’re the only woman in my life.”

“Then why—”

“Because it ain’t right.”

Charlotte sat up and blinked up at him.

“Because we’re not married?”

Arthur gazed out the window and sighed again.

“It’s not that, exactly,” he said slowly, “it’s just...this was the house your husband built for you. And now I’m here and I just…”

They were both silent for a long moment until Charlotte brought two fingers to Arthur’s chin and gently turned his face towards hers.

“I do still love Cal,” she admitted, “but it’s different. Everything’s changed. I didn’t expect to find love again, certainly not out here. But I guess life has different plans than what we expected.”

“True enough,” Arthur muttered and tried not to think of the last year.

“And Cal’s gone,” she continued, “and I’ll always love him but I love you, too, Arthur. And we’re here. Together.”

“Charlotte…”

She smiled.

“And Cal certainly did not build this cabin,” she said, “we had to hire a crew. He could barely build a picture frame.”

Arthur smiled and looked down at his hands resting in his lap. He sighed again.

“I just want to do right by you,” he whispered. “And I don’t wanna hurt you or...get hurt.”

Charlotte leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I want the same for you,” she said gently.

“And you’re still young and—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she said. “I want you, Arthur. Got it?”

Arthur smiled.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She raised her head and reached for him.

“So you can kiss me whenever and however you want,” she whispered.

Arthur nodded.

“Alright.”

“And touch me whenever and however you want.”

“Charlotte…”

“Because I love you.”

Arthur felt his mouth go dry and his heart twist. He swallowed again.

“I love you, Charlotte.”

She smiled and pressed her lips to his, and with one free hand, took his and rested it on her waist. Slowly, they moved as one down on the bed, and Arthur felt his hands move of their own accord, smoothing up her side and tentatively resting again just below the swell of her breast.

Charlotte leaned back and smiled up at him.

“I told you,” she whispered, “touch me whenever and however you like.”

He smiled and cupped her breast through her nightgown, his smile widening when just that slight touch elicited a satisfied sigh from her lips. He leaned down and kissed her again, shivering at the sensation of her fingers through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp. He massaged her breast and kissed her neck, enjoying her sighs far too much.

“Buttons,” she whispered breathlessly. “Undo them.”

“Whose?” he asked, laughter in his voice.

“Oh, for goodness…” she removed her hands from his hair and deftly undid several buttons of her nightgown and pulled it open. She smirked at the wide-eyed look on Arthur’s face as he gazed down at her bare breasts.

“Charlotte…” he whispered.

“Touch me again,” she instructed. “You were doing so well.”

“My hands are rough.”

“So are mine, now,” she answered. “Go on.”

He reached up and cupped one breast, watching her face carefully as he massaged it and rolled her nipple. Her eyes fell close and she stretched, looking not unlike a cat enjoying a warm spot in the sun.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

She reached up and curled her arms around his neck again.

“I believe you when you say it like that,” she sighed. She leaned up and captured his lips again.

As they kissed, he moved his hand to her other breast and delighted when that elicited more sighs from her. Soon they were panting one another’s names as he trailed hot kisses along her neck, down her shoulders, and right between her breasts.

“Arthur,” she whined.

He smiled as he moved his head and gently placed a kiss on one of her breasts, swirling his tongue over her nipple. She gasped and arched her back. Suddenly, he felt her hand reach down and cup his erection through the flannel of his pajamas. Arthur groaned.

“Charlotte,” he gasped.

“Keep going,” she whispered breathlessly.

He took her other breast into his mouth and hummed as her hand ran up and down his arousal. With his free hand, he reached down and grasped her nightgown, pulling it up. He raised his head.

“Is this alright?” he gasped.

“Uh-huh,” Charlotte nodded.

Arthur ran his free hand up her thigh and rested it on her bare hip, running his tongue over her nipples. Suddenly Charlotte’s hands flew to the buttons on his pajamas and began undoing them.

“Christ,” Arthur groaned.

Charlotte laughed and Arthur couldn’t help but grin until she gently grasped him.

“Shit,” he muttered as she began stroking his erection. He dug his fingers into her hip before reaching for the waist of her knickers. “Charlotte.”

“Yes,” she sighed and with her free hand, carded her fingers through his hair and brought his face up to kiss.

He managed to pull her knickers down a bit before slipping his hand between her thighs, his fingers brushing her folds. She gasped against his lips and arched her back again as Arthur bucked into her hand at the feeling of how wet she was.

“Charlotte,” he repeated breathlessly.

“Yes,” she gasped, “I’m here.”

“I’m not going to last long,” he grunted, feeling his face grow hot with embarrassment.

“Neither am I. It’s alright,” she said. “We’ve both wanted this for so long.”

Arthur nodded and kissed her again as he ran his fingers up and down her folds until they found her clitoris. She moaned loudly against his lips and Arthur couldn’t help but grin, feeling terribly pleased with himself.

“Arthur,” she panted, her grip on him tightening. “Arthur, don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he murmured, his voice strained, “I got you.”

He kissed her again as he swirled his fingers around her until, quite suddenly, her thighs tightened against his hand and she groaned so loudly, Arthur was glad they were in the middle of nowhere.

“Arthur,” she panted again, “Arthur, God. Shit.”

He laughed aloud and kissed her repeatedly until he felt her thumb run over the head of his erection.

“Charlotte,” he repeated breathlessly as her hand ran up and down his length until she suddenly removed her hand. “Shit.”

“Shh,” she whispered before, much to his shock, she spat into her hand and returned to stroking his length. “I’m here, sweetheart.”

He clenched his eyes shut and tried to steady his breathing but, all too soon, he felt heat coil in his lower belly.

“Charlotte,” he grunted, “I’m close.”

“I know,” she murmured against his ear, “let go.”

He choked for breath as he spilled over into her hand, his heart pounding wildly and his head swimming.

“There,” she whispered and placed a gentle kiss on the shell of his ear.

Arthur opened his eyes and stared down at her. She smiled beautifically up at him and he couldn’t help but smile, too.

“Charlotte,” he whispered and leaned down to kiss her again before taking her into his arms and rolling onto his back, Charlotte resting on his chest. She laughed quietly.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” she observed.

“Funny,” he replied, “I was just going to say the same thing.”

* * *

One week later, Charlotte walked into the bedroom and immediately climbed onto the bed where Arthur was sitting, journal and pencil in hand. She reached her arms around his waist and rested her chin on his shoulder, closing her eyes and sighing contentedly.

“Writing or sketching?” she asked softly.

“Writing,” he replied, “though I never have much to say.”

“I would love to read your writing someday.”

“I wouldn’t wanna scare you off,” he muttered.

“How unfair, I’ve let you read mine,” Charlotte pointed out.

“Yeah but you’ve got talent,” Arthur replied.

“Oh, hush,” she said, playfully flicking at his ear.

Arthur smiled as he closed his journal and placed it and the pencil on the bedside table. He reached up and gently grasped Charlotte’s arm, running his thumb along her wrist.

“I realized something today,” he said quietly.

“What’s that?” Charlotte asked, nuzzling along his jawline.

“It’s a new century,” he continued, “has been for nearly three months and I never even noticed.”

“Well, we were both a bit busy during New Year’s,” she reminded him, thinking back to those dark and cold days when Arthur was so close to death and the future so uncertain.

“I know,” he said. “Just seems odd to me, I suppose. I was never certain I’d even see 1900 but here I am.”

“Here you are,” Charlotte agreed, kissing the side of his face. “Shall we sing Auld Lang Syne?”

“Don’t know the words,” Arthur replied. He sighed and gazed out the window to the night sky beyond. “A new century.”

“A new century,” Charlotte repeated. “Is it silly to think that it’s just for us?”

A smile crossed Arthur’s face and he shook his head as warmth flooded his chest.

“No,” he replied, “it isn’t, darling.”

She grinned and kissed him.


	2. June, 1900

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nota beta-read so any mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading and please don't forget to comment below! Insecure writers like myself need the nourishment. Thank you again!

"Got what you needed?"

Charlotte looked up and nodded at Hamish.

"Let's just see if there's mail in," she said as she folded up the newspaper in her hands.

"Already did," Hamish replied, handing her three envelopes, one of which was addressed to him. She took them in her hands and gazed down at the writing. "That one's definitely from Sadie."

Charlotte nodded in agreement.

"Let's head off, then," she said, placing them and the newspaper in her saddle bag.

"Good, glad to be out of this dirty town," Hamish grumbled as he mounted Buell.

Charlotte smiled as she climbed up onto Sage.

"Thank you for accompanying me," she said sweetly.

"Wasn't my choice," he answered, though they both knew he was fibbing. Together, they rode out of Annesburg, both grateful to leave the soot and dust and noise behind. Neither spoke until they were well into the woods of Roanoke Ridge.

"Nothing in that newspaper?" Hamish asked suddenly.

Charlotte shook her head.

"Nothing, except for rumors of a gang in New Austin causing a ruckus on the border," she answered. "It almost seems as if they're forgotten."

"I doubt that," Hamish muttered. "We'll see what your cousin has to say in her letter back at the house."

Charlotte nodded and gripped Sage's reigns a bit tighter. She was always grateful yet incredibly nervous whenever a letter from Sadie arrived. Better to let Arthur read it first.

By the time they reached Willard's Rest, her stomach was in knots. No matter how many times she went into town or hunted alone or visited with Hamish, she never quite got over the fear that when she returned home, he'd be gone. But the door opened and Arthur leaned against the frame, a gentle smile on his face.

"Bout time you two got back," he drawled. "Was beginning to think you ran off together."

"Someday," Charlotte laughed as she dismounted and led Sage to the stall. Arthur followed her and took down her saddle bag and canvas of groceries. He smiled and seemed to lean in towards her before remembering himself.

"You ain't gotta worry about that," Hamish called as he fed Buell an apple. "I may be a lotta things but I ain't a woman-stealer."

Charlotte rolled her eyes and Arthur followed her back to the front of the cabin.

"You're coming in, aren't you?" she asked Hamish.

"Well, if you're offering a cup of coffee, I can be persuaded."

"Why do you think I bought a fresh batch?"

Together, the three entered the cabin and Charlotte began brewing a fresh pot as Arthur put away the groceries. Hamish sat at the table with a groan.

"You alright?" Arthur asked.

"Fine, just hate that dirty place," he sighed. "I swear every visit there takes about five years off my life."

"Oh, hush," Charlotte admonished, "I told you you didn't have to come along."

"Well, you still won't let Arthur go with you, what do you expect? What kinda gentleman would I be if I let you go off unaccompanied?"

"That's the first time I've ever heard you refer to yourself as a gentleman, Hamish," Charlotte replied, raising an eyebrow.

"And the only time." He motioned to Arthur. "At least the trip was worth it. Got a letter from Sadie, looks like."

Arthur glanced at Charlotte, his eyes wide. She swallowed and reached for her saddlebag, hanging off the back of a chair.

"Just the one," she murmured, "still nothing from Charles."

"Reckon he's still busy with Rains Fall," he muttered.

Charlotte turned and handed him the letter with Sadie's handwriting and offered him a gentle smile. He nodded once before taking and opening it. All three were silent as Arthur read, Charlotte pretending to busy herself with cups and saucers. Suddenly, he took a breath and folded up the letter again.

"She's fine," he said softly, "she helped John and his family go out further west. She's thinking about going into the bounty business."

"Not many women I'd trust to make a success in that," Hamish observed, "but she's definitely one of them."

"Sounds dangerous," Charlotte replied, carrying two cups of coffee to the table and setting them down before bringing her own.

"Sadie feeds off danger," Arthur said, folding the letter.

"No word of...?"

Arthur shook his head and took a gulp of steaming coffee. Charlotte winced.

"Nothing in the papers, either," she offered.

"For now," Arthur replied quietly.

"It's been months since the last mention."

He shrugged and offered her a tired smile. The three fell briefly silent before Hamish cleared his throat.

"I still think it's a good idea to lie low for now," he said.

Arthur nodded as Charlotte sighed, her fingers nervously twisting at her skirt. He glanced at her and offered another smile, reaching over to cover her hands with his own.

Hamish drained the last of his coffee and stood.

"I better be going," he said, "wanna be off while there's still light."

Arthur and Charlotte nodded and saw him off, thanking him again for accompanying Charlotte to Annesburg. He waved them away and set back to O'Creagh's Run. The two watched him disappear through the woods before heading back inside.

* * *

"I hate this," Charlotte murmured.

Arthur rolled over onto his back and glanced at Charlotte. She was laying beside him, staring up at the ceiling.

"It's alright, Charlotte," he replied gently.

She shook her head.

"I just hate it for you," she continued, "trapped up here in a little cabin."

"I ain't trapped."

"You are," she insisted, turning her gaze to him, "so long as Dutch is on the run. You said so yourself."

"I said I gotta lay low and not risk going into any towns any time soon."

Charlotte sighed.

"I still feel like I've trapped you up here. The whole country used to be open to you."

"It really wasn't," Arthur said, smiling. "And it ain't your fault. It's that damn son of a bitch I listened to for most of my life. Not you. Besides..." he raised an arm and gathered Charlotte closer to his side, "I got you."

She allowed herself a smile.

"I still think Annesburg and Van Horn are probably safe for you now," she said.

"Forgive me, but I'm more than happy spending my time here than in either of those towns."

Charlotte laughed quietly before turning her face to rest against Arthur.

"I suppose I just worry about you finding this life dull," she admitted. "So dull you even consider leaving."

Arthur tightened his hold on her.

"Charlotte," he whispered, "that ain't happening. The only way I'm leaving is if we're doing it together."

"Arthur..."

"I mean it," he insisted. "I want to be here."

She closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath.

"Alright," she said quietly.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

"You don't gotta worry about me," he whispered.

"Well, look who's talking," she replied.

Arthur smiled and tightened his hold on her.

"Go to sleep, darling," he whispered. "I'll be here when you wake up, I promise."

* * *

Charlotte frowned as she read over the last paragraph she had just written. It was alright, but nothing particularly innovative. She tapped her pencil against her lip as she contemplated tearing the page out when the front door opened.

Arthur stepped out onto the porch with a book in his hand. Charlotte smiled and made room for him beside her on the bench but he didn't sit. He held the book in both hands and took a deep breath.

"Charlotte, I have something I want you to read," he said.

"What is it?" she asked curiously.

Arthur seemed to take another steadying breath before holding it out to her.

"It's my journal," he said, "from the last year."

Charlotte's hand retreated from reaching for the book and she stared up at him, wide-eyed.

"Arthur," she exclaimed, "what on earth...that's your private journal!"

He smiled.

"I'm aware of that," he offered. He sighed and sat beside her. "I've been doing a great deal of thinking lately, and I realized you've shared an awful lot with me about your past but I've kept most of mine for you."

"Arthur, that's fine, it's your choice. I don't mind."

"I don't either," he continued. "Besides, I think if you read this, you'll realize just how happy I am to be here with you."

"Oh, sweetheart, I don't..."

Arthur placed it gently in her lap and leaned over to kiss her on the side of her head.

"I've had some really rough and dark times," he said softly, "but maybe it was all worth it to get to you."

Charlotte's eyes pricked with tears as she felt her heart clench in her chest. She covered Arthur's hand with her own and squeezed before turning her face to capture his lips with her own.

"Are you sure?" she whispered.

He nodded.

"I'm sure," he said, "I want you to understand. You ain't gotta read it now but...I want you to have it."

Charlotte nodded and kissed him again.

* * *

"Alright, girl, you can have one more treat," Arthur said softly as he fed Sage an apple he had hidden in his satchel, "but after this, straight to bed, alright?"

Sage nickered happily before quickly consuming the bright red apple in Arthur's hand. He smiled.

"Now, off to sleep with you," he reminded her as he gave her an affectionate pat before picking up the lantern and heading to the cabin's front door. He walked inside and blew out the lantern as the bedroom door opened.

"Arthur?" Charlotte called.

"Right here," he said, taking off his boots, "was just getting Sage settled."

"You gave her something to eat, didn't you?"

"Course not."

Charlotte placed her hands on her hips and tried to look irritated but ended up smiling. Yet, there was something sad about her smile.

"You alright?" Arthur asked as he walked towards her.

She hesitated before gently taking his face in her hands.

"I'm..." she started before swallowing, "I'm so sorry you went through all of that."

Arthur's heart clenched as the darkest memories of the last year abruptly sprang to mind. He closed his eyes and shook his head as he placed one hand over hers.

"It's alright, darling," he insisted.

"No, it's not."

He opened his eyes and was dismayed to see tears in hers.

"Charlotte, now, don't you start crying," he insisted. "I didn't give you my journal for you to cry over."

"But you...all of your friends...the things you saw," she continued. "How could one person go through all of that and still be standing?"

Arthur smiled reverently down at her.

"I'm still standing 'cause of you," he replied.

"Don't be glib," she insisted. "I just...I can't believe you..."

"It's over," he said, taking her hands and squeezing them reassuringly. "It's all over and ain't nothing to worry about. We're together now. Safe."

Charlotte nodded and sniffed before a fiery look came to her eyes.

"I could strangle that Dutch and Micah myself!"

Arthur laughed and gathered her into his arms, burying his face in her hair.

"I reckon you could probably track them down and give them a piece of your mind," he muttered.

"It'd be much more than a piece of my mind!" she continued. "I had no idea... well, damn them!"

"That's right," he continued. "But we ain't gotta worry about them now, alright?"

Charlotte hesitated before sighing and relaxing in his arms.

"I suppose so," she admitted softly.

They held each other quietly for a few delicious moments, content in one another's presence before Charlotte suddenly looked up and gazed at him with wide, bright eyes.

"Why on earth did you never tell me you were in a shipwreck and stranded on a tropical island?" she asked. "That's something out of a dime novel!'

Arthur laughed and shook his head.

"I'll tell you the whole story," he offered, reaching down to pick her up bridal style in his arms, "and if you want, you can write your own novel about it and become a world famous author."

Charlotte nodded as she looped her arms around Arthur's neck.

"Alright," she agreed, "what shall we call it?"

"I'm sure inspiration will strike us eventually," he said as he carried her into the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stop by hollymartinswrites.tumblr.com to say hi! Thank you again so very much for reading and don't forget to comment!


	3. November, 1900

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta-read so any mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading and please don't forget to comment below! Insecure writers like myself need the nourishment. Thank you again!

"Don't stop," Charlotte gasped as Arthur lifted his head.

A laugh rumbled from deep within his chest. He leaned down to kiss her folds as his fingers worked within her. His tongue circled her clitoris and when he curled his fingers in just way, her back arched accordingly. He smiled against her.

"Nearly," she panted, one hand gripping his hair and the other kneading at her breast. "Oh, God, Arthur."

"Let go," he murmured before taking her clitoris in his mouth and sucking gently.

Charlotte tensed, her mouth falling open, and her legs over his shoulders tightened around his head as she came. A moan that seemed to come straight from between her legs escaped her and Arthur smiled as he worked his fingers through it. She was always rather loud. He enjoyed it immensely.

"Oh, God," she panted, her chest heaving with short breaths.

"Sounded real nice," he observed as he kissed her thighs and gently removed his fingers. She whined a bit. He smiled again as he stood.

"It was nice," she murmured, smiling up at him lazily. She reached out her arms. "Come here."

"You sure you're ready?"

She nodded.

Arthur climbed onto the bed and between her legs, positioning himself at her entrance.

"Ready?"

"Arthur, if you don't get inside me this instant..."

He laughed and Charlotte grinned at the sound. If she can make him laugh every day, she'd be a very happy woman.

He entered her, and her mouth fell open again with a sigh. His eyes were on her face, watching every change and expression as he gently pushed in until he bottomed out. He couldn't help but groan, his eyes briefly closing as he paused before he began to slowly thrust in and out.

"Arthur," she whispered, her arms reaching up around him, pulling him down to capture his lips.

"Charlotte," he gasped against her mouth.

They were both quiet this time, content to merely breathe one another in. Neither had any idea how long they lasted, nor did they care very much. There was time enough for more later. Charlotte's eyes were closed, her arms around Arthur when she felt the warm tightening within her.

"I'm close," she gasped, her grip on him growing stronger. He nodded and reached down, rubbing at her clitoris as he pumped in and out of her.

Suddenly, he made a strangled sort of noise and abruptly moved away from her. She opened her eyes and watched as he pulled out, spilling onto her bare stomach with a muffled curse, his fingers still on her. The sight and sound of Arthur finishing always did it for her, and she moaned again as she crested.

"Shit," Arthur muttered as they tried to catch their breath. Charlotte laughed. He made to climb off the bed but she reached up and grasped the sides of his face, rearing up to capture his lips.

"Indeed," she whispered before laying back against the pillows. He smiled and kissed her again before climbing off and heading to the wash basin where a flannel cloth was waiting. She watched him and stretched luxuriously before he returned and began to gently clean her.

"That was awful close," he muttered.

"Hmm," she hummed, her eyes growing heavy. "'Salright."

Arthur paused before finishing up and disposing of the soiled cloth. He returned to bed and brought the sheets up around them.

"Kiss me again," Charlotte murmured sleepily.

Arthur smiled and did so before taking her into his arms and falling contentedly asleep.

* * *

They were unpacking the groceries when Charlotte suddenly said, "Oh, the mail. We forgot to bring it in."

"I'll get it," Arthur offered. "It's still in the saddlebag?"

"Should be."

He walked out of the cabin and returned just as she putting away the last of the groceries. She sat at the table where he dropped the packet of letters.

"Got a response from one of 'em literary magazines," Arthur said, trying to sound nonchalant as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Another rejection, I'm sure," Charlotte replied, taking the envelope in her hand and opening it.

"You don't know that," he muttered. He avoided her face as she read but winced when he heard her sigh and close the letter up.

"I was right," she said.

Arthur frowned as he stirred his coffee.

"I never liked their stories, anyway," he said gruffly, sitting across from Charlotte.

She smiled.

"You encouraged me to send mine in," she reminded him.

"Yeah, but the more I think about it, the more I see you're just too good for 'em," he insisted.

Charlotte smiled again and reached out across the table to squeeze his arm.

"It's fine, Arthur," she said. "You don't have to take every one of my rejections personally."

"Hmpf," he muttered, taking a sip.

Charlotte sighed and began going through the mail, stopping at a particular letter.

"Huh," she said, "something from my sister."

"Which one?"

"Sarah," she replied, looking at the envelope warily as she unsealed it. Arthur watched her read it, hoping it wasn't bad news.

"All's well?" he inquired.

Charlotte nodded.

"Jane's having another baby," she replied. "I'll have to send a gift."

"Which one's Jane again?"

"The youngest."

"Ah, yeah," Arthur nodded, "the flighty one, right?"

Charlotte grinned.

"I'm probably considered the flighty one now," she said, folding the letter up.

"Impossible," Arthur scoffed.

"You haven't met my family," Charlotte pointed out, reaching out to grasp his cup of coffee and take a sip of her own. "Besides, Jane grew out of her naughtiness and did the proper thing, which was get marry young and have children, particularly sons. I think this is number four."

Arthur swallowed and gazed down at the tabletop, his mind awhirl.

"You and Cal never...?"

Charlotte gazed at him over the rim of the cup and offered a tight smile as she shook her head.

"No," she said quietly.

Arthur gazed down again and felt the rising heat of shame come over him. The image of Isaac's young face came to mind, and he shook his head to rid himself of it.

"It's alright," Charlotte said quickly.

He cleared his throat and offered her a smile.

"She say anything else?" he asked.

Charlotte shrugged.

"The usual," she sighed, "gossip about the neighbors, complaining about Jane, the regular begging me to stop this foolish nonsense and come home."

Arthur's stomach lurched and his heart seemed to constrict within his chest. He gazed at Charlotte with wide eyes and realized just how tenuous his connection to her really was. For a wild moment, he considered begging her to marry him, as if that would change anything.

She must have noticed the terrified look on his face because she abruptly put down the cup of coffee and took both his hands in hers.

"Arthur, I'm not going back," she said firmly. "Never."

"You don't know—"

"Yes, I do," she insisted. "The only way I'm going back is for a visit and with you by my side."

"But your sister—"

"There is nothing any of my sisters could say that could convince me to leave our life together."

They held each other's gaze—Arthur's worried and Charlotte's resolute—for several long moments before Arthur sighed in relief.

"I love you," he said.

Charlotte smiled.

"I love you, too, sweetheart."

* * *

Arthur awoke with a gasp. He stared up at the ceiling and tried to steady his breathing.

"Arthur?"

Shit.

"Go back to sleep," he muttered.

"What's wrong?"

"Dream, that's all. I'm alright now."

Charlotte reached over and rested a hand on his chest.

"Your heart is going a mile a minute," she observed. She sat up and gazed at him through the waning darkness.

"It's fine. I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

Charlotte frowned before leaning over and kissing him gently.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked quietly.

Isaac's pale face and glassy eyes, blood pooling beneath his broken body, appeared in his mind and he shuddered.

"No," he replied. "I'm fine, Charlotte. Go to sleep."

She hesitated and Arthur dreaded hearing her ask again before she nodded once.

"Alright," she whispered and laid down, her hand reminding on his chest.

When he was certain she had closed her eyes, he allowed a few cold tears to escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stop by hollymartinswrites.tumblr.com to say hi! Thank you again so very much for reading and don't forget to comment!


	4. April, 1901

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta-read so any mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading and please don't forget to comment below! Insecure writers like myself need the nourishment. Thank you again!

"I don't see what the issue is," Arthur said, shrugging. Looking up to catch Charlotte's gaze, he quickly realized he must have said the wrong thing.

"How can you not?" she insisted, her face flushed. She threw the letter down onto the table as if in disgust. "They won't publish my story unless I use a pseudonym. A male pseudonym, at that!"

"I know that," Arthur replied coolly. He reached out and took the letter into his hands and scanned its contents again. "But they _do_ want to publish it."

Charlotte shook her head.

"It's not the same," she replied. 

"You get paid the same."

Charlotte stood and put her hands on her hips, a clear sign to Arthur that she was frustrated. 

"It's the indignity of it, Arthur," she insisted firmly. "I'm not a good enough writer to be published. But a man is."

"They ain't saying that."

"Of course they are!" 

"Charlotte," Arthur continued soothingly, "they like your story. They like you. They probably just think the story will sell better under a man's name. Ain't nothing personal."

Charlotte scoffed.

"Besides," Arthur continued, "it _is_ a cowboy story."

When she didn't respond right away, he looked up at her again and immediately winced.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"I mean, well," he said, faltering, "women don't exactly read and write those types of stories."

"Well, I wrote one."

"I know."

"And what are women supposed to read and write?"

Arthur blinked.

"I...I dunno. Love stories, I guess."

"And all women read and write the same things, I suppose," she scoffed again.

"Charlotte, you are taking this far too personally."

"It's my career!"

"It ain't a career yet!"

Charlotte stared at him coldly before turning and reaching for her shawl hanging on the coathanger. 

"Where are you going?" Arthur asked, standing. 

"For a walk," she responded stiffly. 

"Lemme—"

"No," Charlotte answered, wrapping the shawl around her shoulders and reaching for her saddlebag. "I'm not feeling well, a walk will help."

"Charlotte, come on now. I didn't mean—"

"I'll be back before dark."

"Don't be silly."

That was obviously the wrong thing to say again, because she shot him a withering look before slamming the cabin's door behind her. Arthur sighed and collapsed in a chair, shaking his head. Women.

* * *

  
It wasn't until she reached Annesburg that she began to calm down. It had been a foolish argument, she knew, but she just couldn't help it. Months and months, nearly a year, of rejections and finally, just when there had been a bit of light at the end of the tunnel, her hopes were dashed again. Perhaps her mother and sisters had been right—becoming a published author was a fool's errand.

She shook her head as she walked into the general store, a frown on her face. 

"Morning!" the clerk said happily. 

"Good morning," Charlotte responded numbly. She quickly realized she had no real reason to be in here, her grocery shopping already completed earlier in the week. Well, perhaps a treat for herself would make her feel better.

"Glad to see you back, Mrs. Balfour," the clerk said. 

She offered him a tight smile as she looked at the sweets and toffees. Hopefully, he would take the hint.

"Guess you're back for all the excitement this afternoon."

"Excitement?" she asked, blinking. 

"Didn't ya see the gallows at the end of the street? Next to the sheriff's?" 

A cold wave washed over Charlotte as a hard pit of anxiety jabbed at her stomach. She shook her head.

"Gonna have us a hanging at noon," the clerk continued, grinning.

"A hanging," she repeated, her tongue thick in her mouth. "Who? An outlaw?"

"Nah," the clerk said, waving his hand, "nothing that thrilling, sadly. Just a troublemaker from the mine who killed his boss. Bashed his head in with a shovel. Ran all the way to Butcher Creek before we caught him. Bad business."

"Yes," Charlotte replied, allowing herself to breathe. "Bad business."

"You alright, Mrs. Balfour? You look pale."

She blinked and slowly shook her head again.

"I'm fine," she answered slowly, trying to smile, "just don't much care for talk of hangings, I suppose."

"Aw, I apologize," the clerk said. "Sometimes I forget you're a real lady. Unlike the rest of the trollops who live around here."

Charlotte nodded.

"I best be going," she said, hurrying towards the door.

"You don't want anything?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you."

Charlotte rushed out and stood on the front step of the store. She closed her eyes as another wave of dizziness overcame her. When it passed, she allowed herself one glance to the south, and sure enough, a large crowd had gathered outside the makeshift gallows, chattering excitedly. She swallowed her nausea down and hurried away.  
  


* * *

  
Arthur was so surprised by the sudden reappearance of Charlotte, so soon after she had departed, that he nearly dropped the hammer on his foot. He was equally surprised by the sight of her all but running up the hill to their cabin, her eyes wide, face white, and hair wild. He immediately thought the worst as he rushed down to gather her into his arms.

"What happened?" he demanded, holding her tight as she merely repeated his name in a thick voice. He grasped her by the arms and pushed her back a bit to meet her eyes. "Charlotte, what happened?"

"Arthur, they..." she gasped, catching her breath, "there's gonna be a hanging in Annesburg. And I thought...I imagined...Oh, God."

Arthur relaxed and sighed, taking her back into his arms and rubbing his hands along her trembling back.

"Darling," he murmured, "I'm fine. Ain't nothing happening to me. You got nothing to worry about."

"That's not true," she said, sniffing. "If anything...if someone recognized you. Oh, Arthur, we can never leave this cabin." 

"Charlotte, darling, calm down," he said gently. 

"But I saw the gallows," she insisted, "and for a moment, I imagined..."

He leaned down and kissed her on her forehead. 

"It's alright," he whispered. "I'm here, ain't I? I'm flesh and blood, and you're holding onto me."

She nodded and sniffed again.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Hush, now," he replied, kissing her again. "It's that damn imagination of yours. Always getting you worked up."

Charlotte couldn't help but huff a laugh before resting her head against his warm chest, listening to his beating heart. She closed her eyes.

"Come on," Arthur said softly, "let's get inside."

When he took her inside and kissed her fully, she sighed and allowed herself to be carried into their bedroom. 

* * *

  
"You were right, y'know," Arthur murmured.

"Hmm?" Charlotte hummed as she placed soft kisses on his bare chest.

"You oughta have your stories published under your own name."

"Oh, don't worry about it," she mumbled. "I'll think about it later."

"Yeah, but" he continued, shifting on the bed so that he laid on his side towards her, "you work hard for your writing. Least they can do is say who wrote it."

She sighed and curled a hand into his hair.

"Like I said, I'll think about it later," she replied. "Plus, you weren't wrong either. Maybe it would look funny to have a cowboy story written by a woman."

"Now, darling, I—"

"I could use my initials," she said. "No one would be any wiser."

Arthur shrugged.

"My family and Cal's would probably prefer it if I use a pseudonym anyway," she observed, smiling. 

Arthur frowned. 

"I don't like how negative they are to you," he murmured.

Charlotte leaned up and kissed him.

"I don't care what they think," she whispered.

"Good."

"I care about you."

Arthur grinned and captured her lips with his own.

"Even better," he growled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stop by hollymartinswrites.tumblr.com to say hi! Thank you again so very much for reading and don't forget to comment!

**Author's Note:**

> Stop by hollymartinswrites.tumblr.com to say hi! Thank you again so very much for reading and don't forget to comment!


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